


Accidents Happen

by Ill_Ratte



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Outing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omorashi, Soft Hank, Trans Gavin Reed, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ill_Ratte/pseuds/Ill_Ratte
Summary: While on a stakeout together, an unfortunate accident occurs. Hank deals with the fallout.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Gavin Reed
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdelineAround](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/gifts).



Gavin looked like he had gotten into a fight with a rabid raccoon on steroids. And lost. Or maybe he was the raccoon, Hank pondered, staring back into the rear-view mirror. The dark circles around Gavin’s eyes certainly matched one, at any rate. His eyes were unfocused, too, and the only movement coming from Gavin was a slow rockin back and forth on his seat, most likely from boredom. 

“Whatcha lookin at, Pervert?” Gavin’s eyes narrowed in the mirror. 

“A dumpster fire. How long since you last slept?”

“Why do you care?” Gavin crossed his arms, and in that moment he resembled an overgrown child. Not that he didn’t always resemble one. 

“I don’t. Just don’t want it to affect your performance, is all; can’t have you falling asleep while on a stakeout like some Rookie.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” Gavin grumbled. He slumped further into the backseat. 

“Just like a kid.” Hank gruffed under his breath. He regretted letting Gavin take the backseat. While it certainly allowed for a wider range of vision, it was also easier for Gavin to sneak in sleep. Not that Hank begrudged him of it, but he did actually need Gavin’s help. Hank had also been up just a bit too long to see clearly. 

“Fuck off, old man. When is this Shmuck supposed to get here, anyway? Feels like we’ve been waiting here for-fucking-ever!” 

An hour ago. And it would have felt like much less if Gavin had talked to him besides complaining. “Any minute now.” 

“Can’t you at least play music or some shit? Even that trash you like is better than just listening to us breathe.”

“Trash? I ought to take you over my knee, with how much of a brat you’re being.” Hank made sure to hold direct eye-contact through the rear-view mirror. 

“Jesus Christ.” Gavin spluttered, looking away. The remark might have been out of line, considering the huge crush Gavin had on Hank back in his prime, but at least Gavin looked more awake. 

“No Gavin, it’s only us here. Now help me look. I’m sure that bastard will be here any minute.” So he wasn’t that sure, shoot him. And being shot looked better and better to Hank as the minutes turned to a whole new hour, with nothing but Gavin’s fidgeting in the back seat to keep him occupied. 

As he tracked Gavin’s movements with his eyes, he started to cotton on that maybe it wasn’t just restless energy that made Gavin squirm in his seat. The way the boy squirmed had grown more urgent, and Gavin usually fidgeted with his hands when he was restless, not that Hank stalked Gavin. Gavin was just… a force of nature in the bullpen. Hank couldn’t help but look his way. 

It took another five minutes, just the span of his favorite Knights of the Black Death song, which his brain kindly reminded him he could have been listening to if he hadn’t imposed his (albeit, correct) goddamn restrictions, before Hank worked up the courage to ask Gavin if something was wrong. “You uhh, ok back there, kiddo?” 

He expected something acidic in response, another iteration of how Gavin wasn’t a child, and was probably twice the man Hank was. Instead, Gavin nodded, eyes inspecting his twitching feet. 

“Are you sure?” The linger Hank looked, the more suspicious he became. Until, like a damn lightbulb, an idea appeared in his head. “You… need to piss or something?” Now that he was watching him, Gavin was performing a peepee dance like a toddler, just short of grabbing himself in front of Hank. An image sprang into Hank’s mind of Gavin grabbing himself, rubbing his legs together while he bit his lip, and he didn’t know whether to be disturbed or aroused. 

“... There’s nowhere to go.” 

Gavin was right: at 4:30 am, the closest place open was the convenience store two blocks down, and he wasn’t even sure that it had a restroom. And either way, if Gavin left, Hank would be left in a poor position if the Guy did end up showing. “There’s a bottle in back somewhere, beneath all the clutter. Feel free to use it; I won’t look.” Hank couldn’t help the bright red blotching his face as he said it. He wouldn’t look, of course, but he would still be able to hear it, and the thought of that was, unfortunately, doing things to him. 

Gavin was silent. Then, in a voice so small Hank wouldn’t have recognized it if he hadn’t seen it come from Gavin, Gavin said. “I can’t do that.” 

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’re piss-shy or something.” It came out harsher than he intended, and Gavin flinched. 

“N-no! I just can’t!” His legs pressed together, and the rocking increased. He resembled a small child now, on the urge of breakdown. Hank’s stomach twisted. 

“Look. You just need to calm down and-“

Reaching out for Gavin was a mistake. As soon Gavin caught sight of the hand, he jerked back. And a steady hiss accompanied a growing wet patch on Gavin’s jeans. 

For the first few seconds of the hissing, Hank could only stare in horror. Gavin was crying. Not just little sniffles, either, but full-blown, hiccuping sobs. It felt like someone had reached into his chest and stabbed a stake straight through his heart. “Hey, hey, I’m not- I’m not gonna hurtcha…” He said lamely. 

Gavin only shook his head, burying his face in his arms. The trickle had finally stopped, leaving a large, dark blue patch on Gavin’s front and thighs. The crying hadn’t stopped. 

He could only stare so long at Gavin while he was crying. Opening his door, he stiffly stood from his seat, and popped the trunk. He found his stash of wet-wipes, a long ago habit that he had never shaken entirely, as well as a pair of old sweatpants. When he got back to Gavin, the crying had quieted at least a little. Gavin blearily stared up at him from his arms. 

Hank had expected to give the items to Gavin and the excuse himself, to look away like a gentleman, but Gavin made no move to get up when he offered the items. So Hank settled onto the seat of the car, awkwardly hoisting Gavin’s legs over his lap. Gavin didn’t struggle, his face still buried in his hands. 

Hank patted his rump first, in a firm but comforting gesture, before working on Gavin’s pants. As he pulled down Gavin’s soiled pants and boxers, something made Gavin stiffen, and a strangled whine left Gavin, like he had forgotten and suddenly remembered something, and he tried to scoot away. He nearly careened off of Hank’s legs onto the floor. Hank caught him around the middle, his pants slipping down further in the commotion. 

“Oh.” Gavin had a pussy. A hairy, bright pink pussy that glistened. The urge to stick his face in it overcame Hank, so he focused his eyes on Gavin’s face instead. The fear in the poor boy’s eyes had lessened, and Hank gave him a smile. “You still ok with me cleaning you up, buddy?” 

Gavin nodded. Hank helped him back up, having him lay on his back and removing his pants completely. Gavin seemed a little tense as he spread his legs out, letting out small huffs and groans as Hank washed around his cunt his thighs. 

“You’re not mad, right? Or grossed out about? About that?” He said weakly. His eyes motioned to between his legs. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, on that first part. And why would I be grossed out, sweetheart?” Hank hummed, rubbing the wet wipe in just a little too firmly. “Nothing wrong with uhh… having different parts down there.” Hank didn’t know many trans people, so he wasn’t sure what exactly to say to Gavin. All he knew was that Gavin was extremely sexy, and that Gavin wouldn’t appreciate him hearing that right then. 

When Gavin was all cleaned up, Hank helped him into the sweatpants. “How long has it been since you last slept, sweetheart?” 

Gavin blinked blearily, then grimaced. “Bout 36 hours. Nothin special.” 

“Christ.” He grabbed Gavin’s hand, leading him and basically buckling him into the passengers side seat. Gavin smiled blearily up at him. 

“What’s happening?”

“You can’t work like this, and the suspect’s not coming. I’m taking you home. Unless… you want to come to my place? I mean, you don’t have to to, but you’ve had a real shit day, and I want to at least treat you to breakfast after this, not as a, a date, unless you wanted it to be-“ He was rambling, and he couldn’t stop. He looked over at Gavin, and the kid was still smiling.

“Think I’d like that a lot, old man. As long as it’s a date. I mean, you’ve already seen me naked.” 

Hank wished he could hide his blush. “Half naked.” He corrected. Of course, pussy out was far too intimate for just coworkers. Not Hank and Gavin were just coworkers. At least not now. “And I guess it’s a date.”


End file.
